A Dreamless Night
by thisissupposedtobeblank
Summary: Mac Rizzo is just an ordinary young conman trying to make a rise in the criminal underworld. He has plans, many of which shatter the dreams of fellow criminals around him. Yet, while everyone else only seeks fame, money, and power, Mac has only one desire - to sleep easy for one night, without any worries of the world around him, where monsters and men live together.
1. Chapter 1

"Oi, newbie! Pay attention to those charts, will ya?"

"Yeah, whatever," Mac Rizzo replied in as bored a voice as he could muster. Leave the most pathetic job to the one guy who was brought in the week before. Heck, being a mindless grunt who simply obeys order would have been a much more enjoyable job than sitting in front of a screen with jagged lines going up and down.

Well, then again, watching the screen with jagged lines going up and down was arguably the most important job for the operation. If the newbie didn't notice any discrepancies, then the entire operation would fall apart, and everybody would have to go back to the boss, knowing that they may lose their jobs … at the least.

As Mac sighed at the sheer patheticness of his situation, he glanced to his right where his partner Kimberley held her hands up to her face, trying to hold back her laughter. "What are you laughing about, Kim?"

"... Laughing? Whatever are you talking about, sir?"

"Your hesitation to cover it up doesn't help you at all," Mac replied with half-closed eyes. Turning back to the monitor, the young man went on talking in a bored voice. "And what did I say about calling me 'sir'?"

"Well, you are my commanding officer."

"So, I never really cared about th~"

"And the big guy over there prefers us to refer to each other respectfully." Kimberley nodded at the fat guy in the front of the tent. 5'4', 240 pounds of pure idiocy. And to add to that idiocy, our superior had a little-man complex. No matter how hard he thought about it, Mac could never figure out how this guy got up the ranks.

"Why did I decide to go on this mission? Having someone that epitomizes 'pathetic life form' over me is just pathetic."

"Well, it's good experience, isn't it? Besides, this was in your plans."

"Yeah, but I could have just waited. There's no way this operation would have succeeded with Napolean up the~"

"Sergeant, would you stop fraternizing with your subordinate and key an eye on that monitor." "Ah, yes, sir," grumbled Mac, disappointed that his conversation with Kimberley had not eluded the lead officer. The head guy always had an odd ability to tell when anybody was neglecting their responsibilities. Perhaps that ability had been a key factor in his ascension within the organization.

Or maybe he just liked to keep an eye on Kimberley. Mac couldn't help but notice the tiny fat man stare at his precious subordinate with a hungry look. What a perverted old man.

Well, then again, Kimberley was extremely attractive. With her dark red hair streaming down her back in wavy curls, as well as an almost perfect body dressed in a form-fitting black uniform, she was very distracting, which was one reason why the young man had picked her as his assistant. It's good to have good-looking women around you

Mac caught a few glares aimed towards him. Truth be told, he was not the most popular guy in the room, mainly because he was the only guy with a gorgeous redhead available for the slightest request. Combine that with the fact that she was the only woman in sight, and it was very understandable that jealousy was a very prominent emotion within the room.

Well, that was probably not the only reason why those glares were aimed at Mac. You see, even though he was only twenty, the young man had already rose up the ranks to get the title of sergeant. And seeing how there were several there that had been in the organization for fifteen years or longer and still were two ranks below him - well, let's just say, many were not too happy about Mac's near-miraculous rise.

Many said that it was because of his father, which was quite understandable. Mac's father was ranked pretty high up in the organization - right below the executives. And thanks to his father's name and track record, Mac was able to get premium jobs that had almost 0% chance of failing. Thanks to a clean record and a 100% success rate, promotions were easily available.

However, this was the first mission that the young sergeant had accepted that had a … less-than good probability of success. Perhaps "this has been a mission attempted at least twenty times, and so far the closest anyone has gotten to completing it was simply entering the building" would be a proper explanation. The building in question was an abandoned hotel, which had been completely locked up for fifty years.

And if anybody were able to get into the building, the result was always the same: they went missing. No trace, no clue. They just disappeared, and were never heard from again.

So yeah, in most cases the job was a career-ending mistake reserved for those who were idiots with a lot of ambition. In other words, idiots like Napolean up front.

Which would beg the question, what was a self-proclaimed genius like Mac doing there? Most assumed it was just another way to go up another rung on the ladder. If the superior officer fails, then as the number two in the company, the sergeant would naturally be promoted.

However, that was not the case for a self-proclaimed genius like Mac Rizzo.

"Hey, I've got a reading on the building. Something's in there."

"Could it be? Is it really him?"

"It has to be. What else would go in there?"

Mac checked my monitor. The readings were substantial proof. "Yeah, he's in there."

Everybody looked up at Napolean. The news had obviously surprised him. Usually it took a month and a half before anything happened. This mission had just started two weeks ago, and it wasn't even fully functioning until the second-in-command got in a week later. But, like a good ambitious leader should, Napolean straightened up and began an impromptu speech that sounded somewhat rehearsed.

"Ahem. Men, we have been waiting for this opportunity. Our goals are definite. We will do whatever it takes to capture him. Remember our oath: 'Steal Pokémon for profit. Exploit Pokémon for profit. All Pokémon exist for the glory of Team Rocket.'"

This speech was met with various cheers of "Yes, sir," and "All hail Giovanni!" The young sergeant chortled. Who was Giovanni, a god? He was a great man, a great leader, but someone to be worshiped? Kimberley glanced over to her partner and received a nod. It was about time that Mac Rizzo, as second-in-command, gave a word or two.

"Now, put a call down to the troops. They will storm the hotel in five min~"

"That will not be necessary, sir."

Everybody looked back toward Mac in shock. This plan had been agreed upon since the beginning - a mass invasion seemed more prudent than the failed attempts with a single man or small groups. What the young man was doing was nothing short of betrayal. Well, that, and having a Pokemon's claws against the commanding officer's throat.

Napolean, of course, stood stock-still, glaring at his second-in-command. Mac guessed that the superior may have been warned that his lackey would do something, but brushed it off. Shame on him - Mac Rizzo had already backstabbed previous superior officers three times. There was no evidence, of course.

Soon chaos insued. "What are you doing, Sergeant?"

"This is mutiny!"

"Do you not care for Team Rocket?"

To these cries of outrage, Mac lifted his arms, as if to silence the masses. With a snap of his assistants fingers, Pokemon appear from the shadows and through the walls, and soon everybody around is snoozing. With that, the takeover was practically complete.

Napolean was still awake, though. The mutineer needed one more thing from him. Mac threw out a Pokeball, calling out his last trump card.

"So, sir, I'm going to need you to sign something for me."

"Or what, you two-faced ba~"

"Sneasel."

The Pokemon with his claws at Napolean's throat pressed a little harder. It effectively shut the officer up.

"I do not support vulgar language, sir. But I suppose I should explain, in easy terms, 'what' will happen if you choose to … ignore my request." With a wave of his hand, Mac motioned to his trump card, a black fox standing on two feet. "I assume you have heard of Zoroark." The information hit the commanding officer, causing sweat to start to drip from his forehead. The grotesque man had indeed heard of fox Pokemon. "Judging from your reaction, I believe you know that Zoroark is known as the 'Illusion Pokemon'. Now, whether you do it consciously or not, you will sign these papers for me."

The older man slumped, knowing he was beaten. He took the pen and signed, thus giving Mac permission to enter the hotel alone. The young man was checking to make sure his superior officer wasn't trying any funny business when the beaten man asked, "Are you really trying to cheat Team Rocket?"

Annoyance flashed on Mac's face, but he relented. "Tell me, sir, are we not supposed to 'steal Pokemon for profit'? Well, I determined that stealing this particular Pokemon would be my profit." The rebel smirked at Napolean's furious glare. "Don't worry, the boss won't punish you for this. I believe you will be sleeping in a nice, comfortable cot in a steel-barred cell in a few hours."

And before he could reply, Mac motioned for Kimberley to finish it. With another snap of her finger, her Misdreavus put Napolean asleep.

"I must say, I am extremely envious that that Pokemon knows Hypnosis. How were you ever able to get your hands on her?"

"That doesn't matter," the assistant replied. "What matters is our mission."

"Ah yes. Thank you for reminding me."

To this, Kimberley sighed dejectedly. "Are you really sure this is a good idea? The boss will probably not be pleased at all."

"Hey, we've waited for four years for this."

"And when you first told me about this plan, I thought it take at least eight."

"Yeah, well, I felt that before long, someone would be able to catch him. And I determined that stealing this guy from Team Rocket instead of catching him before anyone else would be much more difficult. So, this was a perfect opportunity." See her still sceptical face, Mac shrugged. "Besides, it's not as if anybody will know. That's where you come in."

Kimberley just sighed. "You're impossible." She then called a few more of her Pokemon, and soon all of hers were busy on all the sleeping men in the room. "I'll modify everybody's memory, like promised. I should be able to move to phase two of the plan within fifteen minutes. You have to make your way over to that blasted hotel in that amount of time, making sure nobody sees you."

"Well, Zoroark here will make that easy. I can practically become invisible, thanks to him."

The woman glared at her superior, obviously irritated by his laid-back personality. Then she reached up to kiss the troublemaker. After a few seconds she pulled back, only to find a small smirk on his face. That only irritated her more. "Well get going," she bristled.

Mac winked a good-bye and nodded at Zoroark and Sneasel. "You two know what to do. Stay to the shadows. If anybody catches a glimpse, knock them out."

And with that, Mac headed out into the cold, windy night, his dreams about to be fulfilled in an old, abandoned, haunted hotel.

Fifteen minutes later, the young man stood in front of the creepy building, listening as sirens surrounded the Rocket base in the distance. As a means to further her escape, Kimberley had called the local police and reported "suspicious men wearing a black uniform with a red R on the chest" were outside. And due to Team Rocket's infamy, the police spent all of five seconds sending their entire force to round up everyone they could. Right now, Napolean and his merry men would be waking up in full panic, while Kimberley was silently slipping away, maybe even dressed in the local police uniform.

Before her boss stood the infamous Harbor Inn. Legend had it that the hotel was a huge success, since Canalave City was the lead port city in all of Sinnoh. That all ended mysteriously, when, fifty years ago, the hotel just up and closed.

Looking at it, even in the dark on a cloudy night, Mac couldn't help but wonder why nobody ever considered burning it down, or at the least used a wrecking ball to flatten it. The place was in shambles; it was obvious that no one had been there in forever. And what was worse, this was prime land - right along the port, overlooking the entire city. Anybody could make a thriving business here.

Well, considering the rumors, and the list of missing Rockets gradually increasing, chances were high that this building was protected by … something. And that something was what the young sergeant was after.

Mac checked his watch … twenty minutes after midnight. Past evidence said that the appearance of whatever it was in that hotel only lasted fifty-two minutes, which meant that the Rocket had roughly half an hour to get into the inn and find… whatever.. It was a very random amount of time - nobody could understand why it was so precise. Nevertheless, after that period of time, any trace of whatever was in there vanished, only to reappear on a seemingly random night.

And since Mac had put all my chips in for that night, he was fairly certain that this was his only shot.

In his pocket was a pass to get in. For some strange reason, the only way to get into the hotel was to have that pass. And if needing it to enter a haunted hotel wasn't morbid enough, this had been used by the other Rockets - the ones that disappeared. No matter what happened, this pass would appear in front of the building, mysteriously placed by who knows.

Mac shook off the few nerves he had and walked up to the front door. To his horror, the door opened before he could reach it.

At that moment, all he could think about was 'run.' It wasn't just the door that frightened him; something else just made him shiver in fear. The air seemed thick, making it hard to breathe. Suddenly Mac felt something like an invisible hand grab him and pull him further in the abandoned hotel. A scream escaped his lips~

And then it was over. Mac fell to his knees, panting heavily. Confused at how sudden the sensation ended, he glanced up to find his two trusted Pokemon looking down at him questioningly. Was he simply imagining things? Picking himself up, Mac brushed the little dust off his uniform and took a deep breath. With a gentle thank you to his partners, he forced himself to enter the haunted building.

Much like the exterior, the hallways and rooms were in disrepair. Cobwebs filled the ceilings. Holes were lined within the walls. Layers of dust blanketed furniture. It was your standard, run-of-the-mill haunted house.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Mac chortled at his joke, still trying to steel himself. Like anybody would be~

"Welcome," replied someone who obviously wasn't behind the Rocket a second early. Mac instantly whirled around in alarm. There, at the front desk, sat a very pale man. He stared at the intruder, his heavy breathing sounding creepily like a low, mocking laugh. "We've had a reservation for you. We've held it for a long time…"

By this time, Mac was starting to freak out. The receptionist motioned to the hand with the pass in it. Mac dumbly lifted it up, wondering why his arm moved against his will.

Nodding his head, the man got up and beckoned the young man to follow him. Mac's feet rejected his mind's urgent pleading to run and began on their own. At this time, he was wondering why he ever thought he could do this. He wasn't even able to do what he wanted, instead being led around like a puppet. As hard as he tried, he could not fight the compulsion to follow this man, even though he instinctively knew that it would lead himself straight down to hell.

Down the hallway they continued, into a room which was no doubt a state-of-the-art work back in the day. Once again, every fiber in Mac's being screamed to run, but his body simply marched forward, ignoring his protests. Slowly he made his way to the bed, his body shutting down upon reaching it. His world darkened, sleep invading his mind. Trying one last time to fight against the impulse, he forced his eyes open. The receptionist seemed to fade away as, despite all of Mac's efforts, his eyes closed and he drifted off to a disturbing sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Mac woke up with something nudging his arm and a low, gentle hum echoing in his ears. Groggily, he sat up groaning.

"Ugh, Skitty! I had just got out of a dream and was about to sleep peac~ Huh? Where am I?"

Well, where was the question, but there was no doubt what the young man was on. In front of him waves thrashed violently against a cold, coarse beach. The wind howled, bringing his attention to the skies, nearly black with signs of an incoming storm.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Where the hell am I?" Mac's shock had temporarily suspended his language filter. "Let's see, last night… shit, I went into that freaking hotel and fell asleep!" As he stared at the stormy scene, his mind started to process the information. "Okay, cold stormy weather - I'm probably on an island in the northwest of Sinnoh. Well, that would support the hypotheses we had about that."

As Mac was reflecting on his situation, Skitty suddenly began hissing. The Kitten Pokemon was always cheerful, so this was surprising. However, turning to the direction of where Skitty was looking, her trainer knew immediately why his cute Pokemon had turned grumpy. Behind him there was… nothing. It was like a complete wasteland, with one windy path leading up further into a small mountain. There was no sign of any life, plant or animal.

But there was something. Mac could feel it - misery, anger, loneliness. Something was up there. The trainer scratched behind Skitty's ears to calm her down. "Is that up there, Skitty? Is Darkrai up there?"

The feline simply continued to hiss in that direction.

This was the news the young Rocket had desired. Darkrai, the Pitch-Black Pokemon. A Pokemon that supposedly forced horrible dreams on people as a defense mechanism. It was rumored to know a move that could put multiple foes to sleep. And if that move could hit, then Darkrai's own ability was able to harm its opponents. In other words, Darkrai was a true nightmare.

And yet this was the one Pokemon Mac truly desired.

Mac never understood completely why he wanted it. Well, Darkrai was an extremely talented Pokemon. Its rumored moves and abilities qualified its status among the Legendaries. Though you couldn't really say he was powerful, his unique profile, if true, would make him one of the most technically sound Pokemon known. And for someone with a tactical mind like Mac, the different ways to exploit this was tempting, even at the great cost.

But maybe it was something deeper. Mac couldn't explain it, but since the day he heard of the Pitch-Black Pokemon, he felt drawn to it. Maybe the Rocket, who rarely ever slept peacefully, felt a kinship to the nightmare-inducing phantom.

Whatever the reason, Mac knew that his goal laid before him. He got up, grabbed his stuff that miraculously and mysteriously followed him to that forsaken beach, gratefully recalled his Kitten Pokemon, and started the hike up.

After a half-hour of non-stop climbing, without any sign of life, Mac came to a very dark, very dead-looking forest. Judging from the incredible feeling of loneliness and pain pulsing from within, as well as the simple fact that this was the end of the trail, it was fairly obvious that the thing he most desired was somewhere among the trees.

But Mac couldn't help but get the feeling that this was somewhat of a trap. To his right there was open air - for the previous ten minutes, Mac had been on the edge of a cliff, hundreds of feet high. Glancing down, he noticed a small inlet jutting into the land, the freezing waters no doubt simply waiting to swallow up unfortunate victims. Mac had a sinking feeling that those missing Rockets may have found themselves victimized by the depths there.

Then there was the forest itself. Mac couldn't think of a better word to describe it than "empty." There wasn't a single sound, other than the wind. No hoots from nocturnal birds, no scratching of some rodent searching for seeds, no growls from some predator about to feast. There was nothing around.

Mac wondered how that could be. The trees, while haunting, still looked fresh and alive. And, considering there was no human life around other than himself, this would be quite the paradise for some Pokemon who could adapt there. Surely nothing couldn't have made this place desolate…

But then, there was one possibility: Darkrai - the whole reason why Mac decided to make a mission for himself. If anything could cause the complete disappearance of Pokemon life, it was that thing.

Finishing up his thoughts, Mac reached for two of his three Pokeballs. Out came his battling partners, Sneasel and Zoroark. The two stretched and looked at their trainer, a glint of excitement gleaming in their eye. The young man never really understood why they loved fighting so much - he personally prefered avoiding violence at all cost. It was much more quiet. Their absolute loyalty to Mac was quite impressive, considering their differences in personality.

"You two seem ready," the trainer commented. The Sharp Claw Pokemon and the Illusion Fox Pokemon grinned confidently. Their swagger was starting to rub off on Mac, surprising him. Chuckling, he explained their strategy. "Wind is coming from the north, so our scent will not be recognized. These woods provide the perfect cover for you two, so stay in the shadows as much as possible. Well, considering you're both Dark, that comes natural."

The two Dark types smirked at this. But it wasn't just due to their typing that made them naturals in guerrilla battling - a mischievous Sneasel and a troublesome Zoroark needed the dark to complete sneak attacks and surprises. Together, these two could really give problems to almost any foe, if the opponent wasn't expecting them. Mac was counting on their talents against what most likely would be their toughest challenge they will ever face.

Unfortunately, at that moment, their strategy meeting was cut short by a low moan. All three slowly turned to the sound, where something roughly the size of a twelve year old stood, staring at them. Confident only minutes before, Mac and his Pokemon could only feel fear and anxiety. Slowly, the Rocket reached for his belt, where a certain Pokeball was hanging, waiting for an occupant. Feeling the cold metal on his fingertips, he stared at the Darkrai that had come to greet the unwelcome guests. All Mac could do was wait for an opportune moment.

Darkrai stood there, surprised that these three stood still, staring at him. He noticed they were still afraid - the wide eyes was obvious proof of that. But that didn't stop them from fleeing. The Pitch-Black Pokemon studied the human he regarded as the trainer, astonished that the fool had enough backbone to stand up straight while still having great control over his Pokemon. This man - he was different than those that had come before. Darkrai could feel the trainer's ambition, his plans that he had since young. He could honestly say he was impr~

Before the Legendary could finish his thought process, the small weasel-like Pokemon jumped ~ _forward_? That was definitely different from his past experiences - every nimwit who had found his way onto this god-forsaken island had turned tail and run, often off the cliff to a chilly doom. He turned all of his attention on his aggressor, only to feel something hit him. Darkrai looked down at the missile, only to get annoyed as a bright light flashed and seemingly sucked him into a blue and yellow ball.

"Okay, guys, I don't know how long that Quick Ball will hold, so while Darkrai struggles a bit, let's get into the woods and put our plan into action," suggested Mac, who started running into the woods at full speed. Even though the Quick Ball was excellent at catching, chances were it still was out of the league of a Legendary. No, this was definitely going to be battle of attrition.

A furious wail from behind him drowned out the eerie silence, the call signifying the start of a fight.

Darkrai was starting to get extremely annoyed. For the past twenty minutes, he had been pelted by Dark Pulses smaller than a Joltik. And that didn't even take into account the decreased damage from resistance. Perhaps the only good they did was that every now and then the Pitch-Black Pokemon would flinch, giving the tormentors more time to launch the next volley.

Along side the horrible auras that pulsated the wraith-like Darkrai were thrown-in Pokeball tossed at random times. Since his close call with the Quick Ball, Darkrai had evaded no less than 29 Pokeballs, mostly Dusk Balls with a few Ultra Balls added to the mix. The latest one was the closest Darkrai had come to being caught - this ball was orange, white, and grey, with a prominent orange stripe on the top, and it had taken all of his willpower to escape the confines.

If anything, this new trainer and his Pokemon were persistent. But the weak attacks, the Pokeballs that he could now almost predict - these had become a nuisance, and there was no doubt that they would pay for disrupting his solitude. He would follow th~

But wait! Darkrai stopped, pondering the moves these invaders had unleashed since the battle began. No matter how he saw it, that Trainer was far better than to attack a Dark Pokemon with merely Dark moves. His confidence at the beginning of the match proved such. Unlike all those who would rather face certain death than the nightmare-inducing Darkrai, this trainer had not fled, but attacked! It had not made sense to run away immediately when he had the advantage, unless…

At that moment, the Legendary had finally understood what was happening. The Pitch-Black Pokemon had been led like a lamb to the slaughter, and he had been stupid not to figure it out before.

At that moment, everything around him changed.

There he stood, in the streets of some far off city, searching for someone, anyone.

"Welcome, oh King of Darkness, to this world of illusion," cried a voice, strong and proud. Darkrai immediately began to fear. This wasn't right! He made nightmares, not anyone else!

Almost as if knowing what the Legendary was thinking, the voice continued. "No, you are not in a dream. Though I guess this may be considered a daydream. None of this is real, but that doesn't mean it doesn't look real now, does it? Maybe you should look over there, to your left."

As the voice suggested, Darkrai looked into the shadows of the streets. There, in between some trash cans and boxes, were two eyes staring at him. He slowly moved over there, curious to know who hid among garbage. And there was a little Pikachu, cold and wet from the rain. The little mouse looked up at him, and Darkrai noticed the fear that stare held. Before the Pitch-Black Pokemon could do anything, the Electric Mouse sent a weak Thundershock his way and ran down the alleyway, as far away from the phantom as possible.

The voice clicked his tongue. "Always alone you are, aren't you, Darkrai? Never with any friends, never with any company. Everything just runs away."

Darkrai shook his head. This wasn't real! He was in an island forest, away from the pain others gave him! He had come here, shunning the world that had turned their back on him! With those thoughts racing through his mind, Darkrai shot off some random Hypnosis attacks, praying to get lucky.

Instead, he got an Ice Punch into the middle of the back.

The illusion immediately disappeared, and a young man stood before him. Darkrai glared at him, knowing that he, the Legendary, was beaten.

"I must say, freezing you was outside my expectations. Considering statistics show that that occurs only ten percent of the time, I think I can be excused," explained the calm man, fear no longer there. "Now, Darkrai, I must ask you this - do you always wish to be alone?" Seeing the confusion in his eyes, Mac continued. "I … have plans - plans that, if they are fulfilled, will change the world. But in order to do that, I need power, and a lot, to be perfectly honest. That's why I need you. Now whether you wish to be lonely or not really doesn't matter, since no matter what you think, you will be captured. But if you wish to no longer be alone, I believe our … _partnership_ would run smoother."

There they stood, a Legendary Pokemon looking up into the eyes of an ambitious young criminal. And in that moment, Darkrai understood. He knew that what this young man was saying was true. And maybe, just maybe, this man could provide the companionship the monster had desired for ever, but had given up on. With a simple nod, the Pitch-Black Pokemon nodded his head, accepting the terms.

Mac, grinning in triumph, pulled out a Pokeball. "Well then, Darkrai. Welcome to the team."


End file.
